Olivia’s POV
I stood frozen, my back to them, heart hamring against my chest binding. My flight instinct scread at to keep walking, to pretend I hadn’t heard him, to run as far and fast as I could. But my legs wouldn’t cooperate.
Slowly, like a condemned prisoner facing a firing squad, I turned around.
Max’s piercing green eyes studied with an intensity that made my skin prickle beneath my suit. He hadn’t moved from his relaxed position, legs still casually propped on Alex’s desk, but there was nothing casual about his gaze.
"Mr. Hopton," he said in a smooth and annoyingly sexy voice, "Don’t let interrupt. What did you need from Alex?"
I opened my mouth, but no words ca out. What had I co for? My mind was completely blank, wiped clean by panic. Alex and Max both stared at expectantly as I stood there like an idiot, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Alex finally broke the awkward silence. "Oliver? You okay, man? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."
"I... I..." My male voice nearly cracked. I cleared my throat, trying desperately to rember the reason I’d co here. But nothing ca.
"I wanted to borrow your..." My eyes darted frantically around Alex’s office, searching for inspiration. It finally landed on a leather case next to the wall. "Your electric razor!" I blurted. "I have a client eting this afternoon and noticed I missed a spot this morning."
The mont the words left my mouth, I wanted to punch myself. An electric razor? I didn’t even know how to use a n’s electric razor. I’d never shaved my face in my life! The stubble on "Oliver’s" face was carefully applied by Nikita each morning.
Alex’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. "My razor? You want to borrow my personal razor?"
"I... yes?" I replied, my request suddenly turning into a question.
Max’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as he set his whiskey glass down on Alex’s desk. "You two are that close already? Sharing personal items? How... intimate."
Alex looked uncomfortable. "It’s not really... I an, I don’t normally..."
"No, no," Max interrupted, waving a dismissive hand. "By all ans, Alex. Help your colleague out." He turned those penetrating eyes back to . "Though I’m curious, Mr. Hopton. Do you make it a habit of borrowing other n’s razors?"
I felt sweat forming at my hairline. "No, sir. It’s just... an ergency."
"An ergency," Max repeated, drawing out each syllable like he was tasting it. "Well, we can’t have one of our associates eting clients with an unkempt appearance, can we?"
Alex stood up, "Let get it for you."
He walked to a cabinet behind his desk and pulled out a fine, expensive-looking electric razor in a leather case. My stomach dropped. This wasn’t a simple disposable razor - this was a complicated piece of equipnt with multiple attachnts and settings that I had absolutely no idea how to operate.
"Here you go," Alex said, handing it to . "It’s fully charged."
I took the razor, trying to look like I knew what I was holding. "Thanks, man. I’ll bring it right back."
"Actually," Max interjected, uncrossing his ankles and sitting up straighter, "why don’t you just use it now? Save you a trip back."
My blood ran cold. "Here?"
"Why not?" Max’s smile was dark. "The bathroom’s all the way down the hall, and you said it was an ergency."
Alex looked between us, confusion creasing his brow. "Max, what are you..."
"I’m just being efficient, Alex," Max said, not taking his eyes off . "Ti is money, isn’t that what we always say?"
I held the razor tightly, mind racing. If I refused, it would look suspicious. If I tried to use it, I’d probably do it wrong and give myself away. I was trapped. Cornered.
"I... I prefer privacy when I shave," I stamred.
Max chuckled, the sound raising goosebumps on my arms. "Privacy? Among colleagues? Co now, Mr. Hopton. We’re all n here."
Alex, sensing my discomfort, stepped in. "Max, lay off. If the guy wants privacy, let him have it."
Max leaned back, studying . "But I’m curious now. You said you missed a spot? Where exactly?"
I pointed to my jawline, near my ear, where the adhesive felt most secure. "Just here. It’s small, but you know how clients notice everything."
"Indeed they do," Max agreed. He gestured to the razor in my hand. "Well, go ahead then. Get on with it."
I looked down at the complex device in my hand. There were at least three buttons, a dial with numbers, and several interchangeable heads attached to the base. I had no idea which setting to use, how hard to press, which direction to move it, or even which end was supposed to touch my skin.
Taking a deep breath, I clicked what I hoped was the power button. Nothing happened. I tried another button, and the razor suddenly roared to life, vibrating with so much force that I nearly dropped it in shock.
"Careful there," Max said, his voice filled with amusent. "That’s a thousand-dollar Andis Master Cordless Li. You might want to adjust the setting for a touch-up."
A thousand dollars for a razor? Who spent that kind of money on sothing that removed hair?
"Right," I said, fumbling with the dial. The pitch of the motor changed as I turned it, getting higher and more aggressive.
"That’s for bulk removal," Alex offered helpfully. "You’ll want a lower setting for perfect work."
I turned the dial back the other way, my hands slimy with nervous sweat. The razor quieted to a gentle hum.
"Perfect," I said, trying to sound knowledgeable. Now ca the hard part. I lifted the razor to my face, aiming for the spot I’d indicated earlier. Just as the humming head approached my skin, a horrifying thought struck - what if it dislodged the adhesive? What if it pulled off part of my disguise right in front of them?
I froze, the razor hovering near my my face.
"Problem?" Max asked innocently.
"No mirror," I blurted out, lowering the razor. "I need a mirror."
"Use your phone," Max suggested, his smile widening slightly.
Trapped again. I pulled out my phone with my free hand, opened the cara, and switched it to selfie mode. My own terrified eyes stared back at , though thankfully the "Oliver" disguise remained intact and convincing.
With no further excuses available, I raised the razor again, said a silent prayer, and placed it against my skin. I tried to mimic movents I’d seen my brother make when shaving. The razor glided across my skin, and to my imnse relief, the adhesive held firm.
After a few careful passes over the spot I’d claid needed attention, I quickly turned off the razor and lowered it, hoping my performance had been convincing.
"All set," I announced, trying to maintain a steady voice. "Thanks, Alex. I’ll clean it and bring it right back."
Alex nodded, but Max wasn’t finished with yet.
"You missed a spot," he said, pointing to the other side of my face.
I swallowed hard. "Did I?"
"Definitely," Max insisted. "Right about... here." He gestured to his own jaw, indicating a spot where I knew the adhesive was thinnest.
With no choice, I raised the razor again, carefully running it over the area, my heart in my throat. The adhesive held, but just barely. I could feel it loosening slightly at the edge.
"Perfect," Max finally said after what felt like an eternity. "You look presentable now, Mr. Hopton."
I nodded gratefully, turning off the razor with hands that trembled only slightly. "Thank you, sir. And thank you, Alex. I’ll clean this thoroughly before returning it."
"Keep it for today," Alex offered. "In case you need another touch-up before your eting."
The last thing I wanted was to keep this torture device any longer than necessary, but refusing might seem odd. "That’s... very generous. Thanks."
I backed toward the door, desperate to escape. "I should get back to my office. Sorry to interrupt."
Max raised his whiskey glass in a small salute. "Not at all, Mr. Hopton. We’ve all been there."
As I turned to leave, his voice stopped one final ti.
"Oh, and Oliver?"
I paused, not turning around. "Yes, sir?"
"Stop by my office at four. I’d like to hear your thoughts on a particular case Alex ntioned."
My stomach dropped to my feet. A private eting with Max? Alone? In his office?
"Of course, sir," I managed. "Four o’clock."
I fled, clutching the thousand-dollar razor like it was a live grenade. Once safely back in my office, I locked the door, collapsed into my chair, and buried my face in my hands.
He knew. I was certain he knew. The way he’d watched , the way he’d made use the razor - it was all a sick ga to him.
But if he knew, why hadn’t he exposed right there? Why schedule a eting for later instead of calling out imdiately?
Maybe he wanted to fire privately rather than humiliate in front of Alex. Or maybe - and this thought chilled to the bone - he had sothing else in mind entirely.
I glanced at my watch. It was only 11:30 AM. Four hours of dread and anxiety until my eting with Max.
The razor sat on my desk, I glared at it, then shoved it into my drawer angrily. Out of sight.
Looking down at my hands, I noticed they were still shaking. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself.
"You can do this," I whispered to my empty office. "Just a few more hours. You’ve fooled everyone else so far."
But even as I said it, I knew Maxwell Wellington wasn’t like everyone else.
*************
I tried to concentrate on my work - I really did. The gan files sat open on my desk, begging for my attention, but the words blurred in front of my eyes. Every ti I forced myself to read a paragraph, my mind would wander back to Max’s devilish smile, the way his eyes had bored into mine, the razor trap.
Noon ca and went. Patricia poked her head in to ask if I wanted to join the other associates for lunch.
"Not hungry," I mumbled, pretending to be engrossed in my docunts.
"You sure? They’ve catered from that new French place everyone’s been raving about."
My stomach growled instantly, but the thought of trying to maintain my disguise while eating - the way n chewed differently, took bigger bites, reached for food more aggressively - was too much to bear today.
"Got a deadline," I lied. "Maybe tomorrow."
When the door closed behind her, I slumped forward, resting my forehead on my desk. Trying to maintain my disguise was exhausting on an ordinary day, but with the added stress of Max’s scrutiny, it was becoming unbearable.
1:00 PM. Three hours until my eting with Max.
I attempted to distract myself by watching so funny TikTok videos - knowing it was against the company’s policy, but even that didn’t help.
Before I knew it, it was 1:56. Then 2:00. Then 2:30. Why was the ti running so fast? What was going on?
As ti passed, I checked my disguise. Was the stubble starting to lift near my ear? Was the contouring on my jawline still seamless? Did the prosthetic piece on my nose look natural from this angle?
2:30 PM. Alex knocked on my door, startling so badly I nearly jumped.
"Hey, Oliver," he said, frowning slightly as he took in my disheveled appearance. "You okay? You’re sweating bullets."
I ran a hand through my short wig, feeling the dampness at my temples. "Fine. Just... nervous about the eting with Max."
Alex’s frown deepened. "Why? Max can be intense, but he’s fair. He must see sothing in you if he’s taking ti to discuss work one-on-one so early in your tenure."
If only you knew what he really sees, I thought desperately.
"It’s just - he’s the CEO. I want to make a good impression." My voice sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"You will," Alex assured , clapping a hand on my shoulder. I tried not to wince at the contact. "Just be yourself."
Be myself. The irony nearly made laugh.
"Thanks," I managed. "I’ll try."
After Alex left, I collapsed back into my chair. Be myself? I couldn’t even rember who that was anymore. Olivia or Oliver? Where did one end and the other begin?
I pulled out my phone, my fingers hovering over Kira’s number. I could text her, confide in her, ask her for advice. But what would I say? "Hey, the CEO is onto , and he’s probably going to expose as a fraud in approximately 43 minutes."?
At so point, I imagined Max’s face as he calmly revealed that he knew exactly who I was. Would he be cruel? Amused? Would he call security to escort out in front of everyone? Or would he blackmail sohow?
The possibilities raced through my mind. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t face him. Not today. Not alone.
That’s when sothing in snapped. And In one fluid motion, I grabbed my bag, shoved my phone and wallet inside, and stood up. I couldn’t do this. Not today. I needed ti - ti to prepare my defenses against whatever ga Max was playing.
With that, I stepped out and fled the office, with one destination in mind: Ho.
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